


you know what they say

by Tator



Series: davenzi drabbles [17]
Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Dialogue, Dialogue prompts, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2020-10-13 13:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20583515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tator/pseuds/Tator
Summary: a collection of davenzi drabbles from a dialogue prompts list





	1. Stop being so cute

**Author's Note:**

> you can find the original post [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/187319469178/91-and-42-for-the-drabble-challenge) :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Matteo,” David whispered. He swatted at the body behind him in bed, and he thinks he made contact with an arm, or maybe a cheek? He couldn’t be too sure. He couldn’t really care either. “Matteo, give me the blanket back,” he hissed. He swatted again, this time maybe hitting a hip, but there was no response except for the rustling of the sheets where David was fidgeting from the cold sinking into the joints of his elbows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find the original post [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/187319469178/91-and-42-for-the-drabble-challenge) :)

“Matteo,” David whispered. He swatted at the body behind him in bed, and he thinks he made contact with an arm, or maybe a cheek? He couldn’t be too sure. He couldn’t really care either. “Matteo, give me the blanket back,” he hissed. He swatted again, this time maybe hitting a hip, but there was no response except for the rustling of the sheets where David was fidgeting from the cold sinking into the joints of his elbows. 

He thought about running his icy toes up Matteo’s shin to wake him up enough to let David burrow back under the covers. Well, partially. He really wanted to do it just to be an asshole. He also thought about just ripping the blanket out from under the burrito cocoon that Matteo had most likely ultimately made with the one blanket that he had on the bed, and letting him tumble onto the floor with a squawk like he surely would. Just thinking about hearing the thump made David feel a little satisfied. 

“_Matteo,_,” he said again, a little louder and a little whinier. 

He flipped over to poke Matteo in the chest and demand some sort of warmth out of this bedding arrangement, and saw Matteo nestled deep into the pillow with the duvet talked under his chin and his fingers peaking out to hold on tight to it. His hair was splayed out on the pillow case, sticking up in every direction. David stopped to look at him for a second, breathing deeply with his eyelids fluttering and looking a little bit like a cupid from his dreams, but then he remembered that his fingers were a little bit numb and that they really needed to call someone about a leaky window. 

“Matteo,” he said, and tapped him on the nose. “Matteoooo,” he said louder. 

Matteo mumbled something out and dug himself deeper into the blanket. 

“Matteo!” David nearly shouted. 

“Wha?” He asked and clenched his face up tight, annoyed about being woken up, which was fine with David because he’s annoyed to be awake, too! And he got woken up from his boyfriend’s sticky fingers, which is way worse than the sugary treatment that Matteo was getting from David right now.

“Stop being so cute, and give me some of the blanket back, you ass.”


	2. What’s the matter, sweetie?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Matteo,” Hans clarifies, like they wouldn’t know who they were talking about without it, like David comes here for anything else. “He hasn’t left his room.”
> 
> “He hasn’t?” David asked and checked the clock. It was well after three, he would have at least come out to get something to eat by now. His mind started to spin with why Matteo wouldn’t have come out yet, why he would lock himself up in his room, today of all days. 
> 
> Hans shakes his head. “And it smells like a weed in here. Get butterfly to open a window, will you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find the original post [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/187250512083/18-and-48-in-the-promt-list-please-oh-gosh-i) :)

"He hasn’t left his room all day,” Hans says in greeting when David let’s himself into the apartment. 

David hums when he takes off his shoes, not really processing what he was saying, still too focused on the bite of the wind from outside and how it made his nose feel. 

“Matteo,” Hans clarifies, like they wouldn’t know who they were talking about without it, like David comes here for anything else. “He hasn’t left his room.”

“He hasn’t?” David asked and checked the clock. It was well after three, he would have at least come out to get something to eat by now. His mind started to spin with why Matteo wouldn’t have come out yet, why he would lock himself up in his room, today of all days. 

Hans shakes his head. “And it smells like a weed in here. Get butterfly to open a window, will you?” 

David nodded his head and went further into the apartment to see what was on the other side, if it would be his cheerful but lazy and slow-moving boyfriend ready to continue their video game marathon, or if it would be the concaving shell of a soul that sometimes took over Matteo’s body after a long day of chasing his thoughts around his head. 

“Matteo?” David asked as he let himself into his room. 

Matteo didn’t respond. He was over by the window with a joint between his lips, staring at the street below and scratching at his elbow. David watched for a second, stumped by the way the sun reflects off of his cheekbones, his nose, reflects the most beautiful parts of him in a glimmering light that takes David’s breath away, but the shadows hide the worst parts, makes it hard to see the thick red lines seared up bicep and down his forearm where Matteo tried to scratch the pain right out of his skin. 

David walked over to stand next to him. “Hey,” he said quietly. 

Matteo pointed to a storm drain below that was overflowing and filled with grime. The water was thick looking, and brown, filled with leaves and litter. “Look at that,” he said. 

“What about it?” Davdi asked, seeing the way the water swirled, trying to escape down into the drains below but ended up just spinning, spinning, spinning, unable to go anywhere. 

Matteo shrugged. He took the joint in between his fingers and offered it up to David, still somehow finding time to be considerate even when watching the woman who owned the store down the street try to keep the newspapers from blowing away in the wind. David shook his head, and Matteo shrugged again before taking another drag. 

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” David asked, slow and quiet, and reached out to take the edges of Matteo’s nails away from his own arm, seeing a little too much red underneath them. David tried to remember where they kept the antibiotic ointment in the apartment and how he could spread it over his arms when Matteo is sleeping and not worrying about the world outside of his dreams. Matteo knocked his hand away but dropped his own down by his side, and David thought it was good enough. “Matteo?” 

Matteo blew smoke up to the ceiling and looked back at the street. “I talked to my dad today.” He sniffled and wiped at his nose, and the lit end of the joint got too close to searing his hair for David’s liking. So he took it away from Matteo, who let him easily, and stubbed it out on dish on the desk. David ran his fingers up Matteo’s arm to grip at his shoulder. “He asked me to go to the wedding.” 

“Oh?” 

“Alone.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Matteo said and sniffled again, this time rubbing at his eyes. David pulled him in close and tight, and Matteo gripped at the his shirt and nestled himself into his neck, sniffling more. 

“I’m sorry, Teo,” David whispered. 

“Not your fault,” he responded, muffled by David’s skin.

“I know, but you don’t deserve this, monkey. You don’t deserve this at all, and I’m just sorry.”


	3. You’re getting a vasectomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uncle Matteo, can we have chocolate chips, too?” Emma asked with wide eyes and a smile that he knows doesn’t work on Hanna. He knows because she told him over drinks one night that her daughter has the biggest eyes in the world, and she hasn’t fallen for them once, motherly instincts or something like that. He also knows that _Emma_ knows he falls for them every time. 
> 
> “I don’t know if I have any,” he lies through the skin of his teeth. By the way she smiles at him, he’s pretty sure she knows he’s fibbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find the original post [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/187198242078/lmao-would-you-do-45-from-that-list) :)

Matteo makes it through the weekend with two pots of the strongest coffee God could brew before 9AM, lots and lots of youtube vine compilations, and the sheer force of will. He thinks at one point he might have lost a kid when he was so overly caffeinated at the park that he may or may not have hallucinated an alligator coming up and swallowing one of them whole before walking off, but he has all four now. So no one really has to know that he wandered around the park, a kid holding onto each hand and one on his back, yelling Jacob’s name and praying to god he wasn’t going to have to call Jonas and tell him he misplaced his oldest. 

“Uncle Matteo, can we have chocolate chips, too?” Emma asked with wide eyes and a smile that he knows doesn’t work on Hanna. He knows because she told him over drinks one night that her daughter has the biggest eyes in the world, and she hasn’t fallen for them once, motherly instincts or something like that. He also knows that _Emma_ knows he falls for them every time. 

“I don’t know if I have any,” he lies through the skin of his teeth. By the way she smiles at him, he’s pretty sure she knows he’s fibbing. 

“Will you check?” 

Matteo sighs, knowing he’s a weak man, and then yawns. “If you go get your brothers up. Your parents should be here soon to pick you guys up, and they need to be ready.” 

“Is Uncle David going to be here for breakfast?” 

Matteo looked over his shoulder at the clock. “Uh, he might be. His train gets here soon, too.” 

“Maybe Mama and Papa are on the same train as him!” 

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, knowing that David was coming from Hamburg, and Jonas and Hanna were coming up from Munich and therefore had no chance of being on the same train, arriving at the same hour. But he also knows that shooting children down is something only assholes do. “Go get your brothers. Breakfast is almost ready.” 

Emma skipped out of the kitchen, and Matteo downed the rest of his coffee mug, now cold, and didn’t look for any chocolate chips. He yawned again and flipped some more pancakes. He went to the fridge to get out some jam and butter. 

“Hello?” He heard from the entryway before the thumping of all four kids running to the door. 

“Uncle David!” 

“Hello! How are you guys? Did you have a fun weekend with Uncle Matteo?” David sauntered into the kitchen, holding Lukas one his hip, and looking far too good for someone who got on an early morning train and then took a bus to get home because there was no way Matteo was going to get four children ready enough to go to the train station to pick up his dashingly beautiful boyfriend. His hands were starting to shake, and he suddenly really regretted the fifth cup of coffee. 

“Yeah, it was fun,” Lukas replied. “We went to the park.” 

“You went to the park? What did you do?” 

“Played footie.” 

“That’s fun. Did you win?” 

Lukas shook his head and pointed down to Jacob and Noah. David scrunched his nose, and tapped Lukas’ on his before setting him down. Matteo had to stop watching once one of the pancakes started to smoke. 

“Come sit at the table. Breakfast is ready,” Matteo said, and all the kids scattered over to the table, filling their plates high with food that Matteo knew they weren’t going to finish. He stayed over by the stove, making sure it was all off and threw some of the dishes in the sink to soak the batter off. 

David slid up to him, pressing him up to the counter with a hand hot on his hip. “Hey,” he said quietly, and the look he gave him reminded Matteo that he’d been gone all weekend, all weekend that he had been corralling four children around the city without him. And wow, David looked good. It really wasn’t fair. “How are you?” 

“I’m exhausted,” Matteo responded honestly, dropping his head onto his shoulder, and David laughed. He kissed him on the forehead, and the kids at the table squealed out _eek_. Matteo had to remind himself that he couldn’t flip off children. 

The buzzer went off, and they squealed again, this time more out of excitement to see their parents than disgust, seeing their uncles show any amount of affection because god forbid adults kiss or anything. “I’ll get it,” David said, squeezing Matteo’s hip, and Matteo went back to soaking the dishes, shoving a pancake in his mouth. 

“Papa!” 

“My children! I missed you guys!” 

Jonas and Hanna were ushered into the kitchen by David, and the kids jumped up and out of their seats in seconds. Lukas hugged at Hanna’s knees, and Jonas leaned down to be attacked by the other three all crawling over his back. He pressed over-exaggerated kisses to each other their heads with loud smacking noises.

“Do you guys have all your things?” Hanna asked. “We’re going to go home now and let Uncle Matteo and Uncle David enjoy the rest of their day in quiet.” She followed them as they drug her into the guest room they were staying at. 

“How’d it go, man?” Jonas asked, stretching up, and reaching out to give Matteo a hug. 

“You’re getting a vasectomy,” Matteo said, seriously, thinking about the next time Hanna and Jonas wanted to go on a romantic getaway, and Matteo was going to have to shuffle these kids around Berlin, trying to make sure they kept all their fingers and toes. Jonas laughed. “That’s final,” he added. 

“Is this a good time to tell you we’re expecting another one?” 

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”


	4. You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m hungry.” 
> 
> “Okay,” Matteo says. 
> 
> “Make me something,” David asks, poking Matteo again, and Matteo thinks that one isn’t to get his attention, but just to be an asshole, which he didn’t deserve, he thought. He was being a great boyfriend, keeping David warm and held down from his precarious position on the couch together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find the original post [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/187544802493/100-for-davenzi-if-youd-like-to-xx) :)

“Matteo,” David said, and poked him in the side to get his attention. 

“What?” Matteo mumbled. He was laid out quite comfortably on top of David nestled under a blanket on the couch. They were watching a god awful movie that David insisted Matteo understand for his cinematic education, but Matteo lost the plot once David started running his fingers through his hair like twenty minutes ago. The only reason he agreed to it was that David was already spread out when they were deciding what to watch and didn’t complain when Matteo flopped on top of him.

“I’m hungry.” 

“Okay,” Matteo says. 

“Make me something,” David asks, poking Matteo again, and Matteo thinks that one isn’t to get his attention, but just to be an asshole, which he didn’t deserve, he thought. He was being a great boyfriend, keeping David warm and held down from his precarious position on the couch together. 

“You can make yourself something,” Matteo responds and just slides himself in between the back of the couch and David to have plausible deniability for it all. He was only half on top of him now, enough for David to get away and get him food. He was being a very good boyfriend, he thought to himself, very helpful. 

“I’m a guest. You’re supposed to feed me.” 

Matteo scoffs. “You’re hardly a guest anymore. You have your own key.” 

David pouts. “Make me something.” 

“No,” Matteo says, shaking his head into David’s shoulder. 

“Yes,” David responds and pinches him on the skin of the back of his arm.

Matteo swats at him. “Why?” 

“Because you’re a better cook than me.” 

“Just make a sandwich or something. That’s easy,” Matteo responds because he has the best ideas, and that was a particularly good one if he did say so himself. 

David wasn’t very pleased with it though with the way he frowned over dramatically, like he was offended at the though that he should make his own sandwich. “I want you to make me one.” 

“No,” Matteo said again with a little bit of a laugh because this was just a little bit ridiculous. But David was smiling up at the ceiling, and Matteo wanted to maybe laugh. 

“You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich,” David responds. 

“I live with Hans,” Matteo says, rolling his eyes. “I can stand a lot more whining than you can even imagine.”


	5. Well, if you can’t sleep…we could have sex?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matteo couldn’t sleep. That wasn’t too surprising. He couldn’t sleep a lot. He couldn’t sleep three nights a week, usually laying in bed thinking about how bad he did want to sleep, which only made sleeping harder, and by the next night, he was conked out hard, no thinking necessary and snoring before he even had the blankets over the shoulder. It was a vicious cycle really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find the original post [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/187195839908/62-of-the-drabble-challenge-prompts-for-davenzi) :)

Matteo couldn’t sleep. That wasn’t too surprising. He couldn’t sleep a lot. He couldn’t sleep three nights a week, usually laying in bed thinking about how bad he did want to sleep, which only made sleeping harder, and by the next night, he was conked out hard, no thinking necessary and snoring before he even had the blankets over the shoulder. It was a vicious cycle really. 

It got better when David started staying over more. Matteo would curl up in his arms or behind his back and the heat from his skin would lull him at least into a light slumber like a baby being rocked to sleep. He honestly thought his sleepless nights were over after a couple of months of being able to sleep through every night, all night, with David breathing quietly besides him. 

It didn’t last too long though, and eventually it started all over again. Awake. Asleep. Awake. Asleep. Awake. Awake. Awake. Awake-

“Stopping squirming.” 

“Hm?” 

David flopped onto his back and glared over at Matteo. “Stop squirming. I can’t sleep with you moving around like that.” 

“Well, if you can’t sleep…we could have sex?” Matteo asked cheekily. That would probably help him. 

David raised an eyebrow and then rolled his eyes. “Why would I, someone who is trying to sleep, want to have sex with you, someone who was stopping me from doing just that and being super annoying about it?” He deadpanned. 

Matteo frowned. “Because you think I’m pretty?” 

“Try again.” 

“Because you love me?” 

“Not feeling too loving right now.”

“Because you pity me?” Matteo tried. 

“I really don’t though,” David said and scrunched up his face, and Matteo flicked him off in the dark. David grabbed at his hand and clumped his fingers together. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I just can’t sleep.” 

“Why not?” 

Matteo hated that question, like there was a reason for why his body was begging to pass out but his mind kept racing through things, refusing. If he had the answer, he would have tried to fix it years ago at this point, but usually he was too tired to really even think about anything. He shrugged. “Don’t know. Just can’t.” 

David hummed. “I’m not going to have sex with you.” 

“Rude,” Matteo said and smacked at where he thinks David’s arm was. “Sure know how to treat a guy right.” 

“How about I just cuddle you _real hard_? And tomorrow, if you get tired, we nap after class?” 

“Real hard?” 

“Real, _real hard_.” 

“Yeah, alright,” Matteo said and shuffled closer until David pulled him in by the waist and kissed his shoulder. He still couldn’t sleep, but it wasn’t too bad, not with David right there.


	6. You could have at least left a note. We were worried about you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David left just after 11pm in a flurry of quiet pleads and too fast replies after he screamed in Matteo’s face, gripping onto the shoulders of his shirt as he tried to stand in David’s way at the door to get him to stop, to just stay and talk to him, to help him figure out what was going on because Matteo didn’t really know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find the original post [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/189157935608/59-for-davenzi) :)

David left just after 11pm in a flurry of quiet pleads and too fast replies after he screamed in Matteo’s face, gripping onto the shoulders of his shirt as he tried to stand in David’s way at the door to get him to stop, to just stay and talk to him, to help him figure out what was going on because Matteo didn’t really know. One second they were fine, or at least Matteo thought they were. And the next second David is checking his phone and slamming his textbook shut, snapping at Matteo when he asked what was wrong. 

It all spiraled from there really, and as David rides his bike to the other side of the city, feeling his knees burning a little bit at the way he needed to go faster and faster and faster to just get away for a little bit so his mind could settle back into his skull instead of floating above his body right now, looking down at him, judging him, David realizes that he was just a little bit of an asshole. Or maybe more than a little bit. Maybe he was a dick who just knew how to get away with his angry and frustrated episodes and was hanging by a thread made up his nice smiles and his handsome eyes. 

He should go back, he thinks. And apologize. For the way he acted, for the way his stress always builds, and builds, and explodes before he can stop it, and somehow Matteo ends up in the way of it, more than once, more than David would like. But he doesn’t turn around, doesn’t go back right away, thinking about the way Matteo was probably curled up in his chair, alone, and sad, and smoking a joint and pretending it wasn’t his coping mechanism for when things got too much. Instead he makes a left turn and keeps spinning the wheels of his bike as fast he can with the wind whipping his face, making his cheeks numb with the chill and his nose run enough to make him hold a sleeve up to it. Instead he keeps going, and going, and going, until he can only vaguely figure out where he is, and his lungs burn just a little bit from the stress and the cold- but he could breathe now at the very least. 

David ends up back at the flat just after 3am and only vaguely wonders as he’s slipping his key into the lock if he should’ve gone back to Laura’s instead and tried his luck with Matteo in the morning, apologizing sweetly for being a jerk instead of lying next to him all night with their backs to each other, not knowing how to fix the tension. 

He drops his stuff by the door and tries to creep quietly through the apartment only to see Hans sitting at the kitchen table, blowing on a cup of tea as he dunks the bag in a couple of times. 

“Oh, hey,” David says quietly, not realizing anyone else was awake, feeling a little bit like he was caught sneaking in, though he wasn’t and feeling a little defensive about it anyways. 

Hans takes a sip of his tea while looking David in the eye. “You could have at least left a note,” he says as he sets down his mug with a clang. “We were worried about you.”

“Did Matteo tell you?” David asks as he scratched the back of his head, feeling the tips of his ears heat up with something. Shame, maybe. 

“He didn’t have to,” Hans says back curtly, leaning back in his chair to cross his legs and fold his hands neatly over his knee. His face is neutral, or at least as neutral as Hans can be, but his eyes are anything but, sparked with something protective and loving all at once. It makes David feel like even more of a jerk. “Come sit.” 

David scrunches his face to the side and doesn’t even debate not sitting down, not with the way that Hans was looking at him so sternly, like Hans was the one that he offended with his little disappearing act, like David had to apologize to him too, him _first_. David sits down, picking at the hem of his sweater in between his fingers. 

And Hans doesn’t say anything, just leans forward to pick up his mug and sip slowly at it still steaming, and the way he keeps looking at David is making him feel a little nervous. 

“So…” David mutters and trails off, looking to the side. 

“So,” Hans repeats shortly. 

“I’m going to apologize,” David says, and adds afters a beat, “For running off like that. I know it makes him…” 

“Sad?” Hans fills in with a quirk of his eyebrow a little bit too quick. 

“Yeah,” David agrees, scrunching over and deflating in his spine and in his attitude. “Sad, I guess.” 

Hans sighs and sets his mug on the table. “If anyone understands what it’s like to need a second alone, it’s Matteo. You just have to tell him, you know? He’ll understand.” 

“Yeah,” David says and scrubs his hands over his face and leans back in his chair until he feels like he’s sliding into the ground with the rest of his mood. He knows that. He does. He knows that Matteo would get it if David just told him he needed to go out, needed a second to himself, needed some space to breathe, that it wasn’t personal, that he just sometimes felt like the world was suffocating him anyways. And he tells himself every time, _every time_, that next time will be different, next time he won’t snap. He’ll just say he has to get out of there, right now, and Matteo will nod and let him leave without too many questions because he gets it. He does. And when David comes back home later, Matteo will ask if he’s okay, and David will respond one way or another. And they can have a nice cuddle afterwards, feeling just a bit alright for a while, until it gets better for real. 

“Just talk to him,” Hans says and reaches for his mug again. He stands up, taking his tea with him. “No one likes to see him grumpy. He stinks up the whole apartment when he’s like that,” he says as he turns away, nonchalantly. “No more yelling in my apartment,” he calls out over his shoulder and disappears through the doorway with David watching after him. 

David sits there for a minute, thinking of what he could possibly say that he hasn’t already, broken promises that just sound like empty apologizes at this point, but figures winging it right now and swallowing his pride was better than postponing it and making Matteo think he wasn’t coming back tonight. He sighs and pushes his way through the apartment. 

He opens the door and sees Matteo huddled up in the bed with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, staring mindlessly at something on his computer and looking a little red around the eyes, and David can’t tell if it was from the joint that was still burning in the cup on the desk or from something else. “Hey,” he greets quietly, pulling on the zipper of his hoodie up and down slowly. 

“Hey,” Matteo says back, not looking up. 

“What are you doing?” David tries, leaning in closer to the bed from the door but still not actually walking into the room too far, just in case he’s not allowed in, just in case Matteo tells him if he wanted to leave so bad then he kind find somewhere else to stay, if he wanted to get away then he can stay away, too. 

Matteo looks up at him like the answer was obvious. “Waiting up for you,” he replies and looks back at the computer a second later, and David feels like the biggest dick on the planet. His stomach clenches up with guilt, and he kind of wishes the floor would just swallow him up. 

“I’m sorry,” David says, messing with his hair just to have something to do with his hands. “I know I was a dick. But I’m- I’m trying. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am.” 

“I know,” Matteo responds easily and clicks at something.

“Oh,” David says. 

Matteo looks up at him, after a second too long of silence, with his eyebrows up, and his face flat. “Are you coming to bed?” He asks and shuts the computer to put on the floor.

“Yeah, yeah,” David responds quickly and ushers himself into the room to take off his coat and jeans and crawls into bed beside Matteo, not know how close he was allowed to get until Matteo throws half the blanket on top of him and pushes his face into David’s shoulder, his fingers gripping the inside of David’s wrist. And David grips his arm back, feeling relieved and even more like he should kick himself all at once with how quick Matteo curled himself into him without asking any more questions, without demanding some sort of answer for his beahvior that David didn’t really have.

“I really am sorry, you know,” David whispers with his nose tickled by Matteo’s hair because he feels like Matteo doesn’t really believe him, not that David would blame him. “I wish I was better at it, but I’m not. And I hate it. And how it makes you feel.” 

“I know that, too,” Matteo mutters back, and David can feel the words through his t-shirt. 

“Okay,” David says, feeling like this wasn’t any consolation but was as good as he was going to get for now. He still didn’t know if he could press himself into Matteo’s skin along with his apologies and desires to be better, for Matteo, for himself, for Hans who was waiting to hear if they were going to get into a screaming match tonight. 

“You should take your binder off, so we can go to bed for real,” Matteo whispers and looks up at David with nothing but sincerity, and David’s breathe catches in his throat with it. 

“Yeah, okay,” David agrees, and Matteo kisses his shoulder before moving himself away so David can sit up.


	7. I made it. For you. I know it’s not the best, but...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They weren’t making a big deal about it, their anniversary. At least, they both _said_ that they wouldn’t make a big deal about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find this originally [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/188988716343/can-you-do-31-i-made-it-for-you-i-know-its) :]

They weren’t making a big deal about it, their anniversary. At least, they both _said_ that they wouldn’t make a big deal about it, but in actuality, Matteo kicked all of his flatmates out for the night with promises to make them all breakfast for a week if they promised not to be back until noon the next day and cooked David a nice dinner with dessert and everything completely done and piping hot by the time he arrived. He even put on a nice shirt, though he left the top two buttons undone and didn’t tuck it in. Because they weren’t making a big deal about it. 

And when David arrived, he was wearing one of his nicest sweaters that looked like he had just washed it and brought Matteo flowers, pink ones with baby’s breath in between because roses probably wouldn’t be very casual. 

David didn’t make a comment about the candles that were out on the table, and Matteo didn’t mention the fact that it looked like he tried particularly hard to get his hair to look put together tonight. Though they both smiled at each other and pinched each other on the ribs, and the hips, and the shoulders in between too fast kisses that were mostly just pressing grins together because they promised they wouldn’t make a big deal about it. It was just one year, they said, and what’s one year when you already knew you had so many more in the future together. But it looks like they both went back on that promise. Because maybe- just maybe, they both kind of wanted to make it a big deal. If only a little bit. 

“I, uh, I have something for you,” David admits with chocolate sauce on his bottom lip that Matteo wants to swipe with his thumb, and Matteo almost doesn’t process the words quite right because how could David give him anything more than he already has. 

Matteo hums and grabs their plates to put in the sink as David shuffles around his backpack. He pulls out something that’s wrapped in yesterday’s newspaper, and Matteo makes sure to wipe the water off of his hands to not make the ink run. 

He peels back the paper as he leans against the counter, and David stays firmly rooted in his spot at the table, though he’s biting his lip like he wants to say something, or maybe crowd Matteo in closer to the counter to feel his reaction with every nerve of his being. And, Matteo smiles softly as he opens the paper to see one of David’s drawings after a picture they took at the South Sea on their trip in the summer. Matteo was smiling brightly into the camera in the original picture, and David was wrapped around his middle, tucked under Matteo’s arm and laughing carelessly at something, looking right at the way Matteo was grinning, so young and in love. The drawing was in a frame that looked old and cracked around the top right corner with engraved flowers around the edges, painted in something that has faded to something a little muted now. 

“My eye was swollen at this point,” Matteo mumbles with a smile as he runs his thumb over the glass because he felt about ready to burst at the seems with something sweet overflowing in his sternum, and he wasn’t quite sure what was going to come from between his teeth if he indulged that feeling a little bit more. 

“Artistic decisions,” David says back with his mouth pressed to one side like he was trying to fight back a grin. 

“I have something for you, too,” Matteo admits, and David tilts his head as Matteo starts digging around one of the food cabinets because that was as good a hiding place as any when David was over. “Here,” he says and presses a journal with lumpy pages and dried glue around the edges into David’s hands before taking a step back again to lean up against the counter. 

David’s eyebrows raise as he flips through the pages with tacked in pictures of them, and places they’ve been, and things they’ve eaten. There were pictures of their friends and pictures of Laura. Matteo had written dates under each of them in his very best handwriting in black and blue ink, and wrote little things next to some of more important pictures. _Where we first met_, was under a picture of the school. _Where we fell in love_, under a picture of the park and a photo of the empty pool, over top a picture of the two of them making silly faces into the camera. _When you gave me a key_, was written in ink that was a little blurred next to a picture of the city from atop of a building they had randomly snuck into one day. 

“I made it. For you. I know it’s not the best, but…” Matteo starts to say because David was flipping through the pages so slowly and with such careful consideration in the tips of his fingers that it was making Matteo feel a little bit nervous, a little bit too seen even though he was the one that carefully cut the photos into squares small enough to be glued in. 

“They’re empty,” David says as he looks up with his eyes a little glassy around the edges and his palms smoothed over the blank pages halfway through the book. 

Matteo shrugs. “Need space for the rest of it.” 

And David smiles and looks back down at the book for a moment before closing it slowly and setting it on the table away from the edges. He gets up and crowds Matteo into the counter with his hands on his waist, and Matteo’s around his neck, and kisses his cheek. 

“I love it,” David says into the side of Matteo’s mouth. “Thank you.” 

“I love you,” Matteo says back because he suddenly feels like he doesn’t say it enough, and David’s mouth ticks up around the corners as he parrots it back to him and kisses him a little too hard to be causal. Not that they were pretending anymore anyways.


	8. I bruise really easily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stoooop,” Matteo whined out and pushed David away from him with his hand firm on David’s shoulder even though his other was still wrung into his shirt, tight and demanding for some sort of attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find the original post over [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/188893101743/77-for-davenzi) :]]

“Stoooop,” Matteo whined out and pushed David away from him with his hand firm on David’s shoulder even though his other was still wrung into his shirt, tight and demanding for some sort of attention. 

“What? What’s wrong?” David asked quickly with a little roughness around the edge, leaning back far enough to look Matteo in the eye but not far enough to pull himself completely away, still wanting to keep Matteo pressed into the edge of Matteo’s desk, still wanting to keep his gasping into the dark of his room. He blinked slowly with his pupils blown out wide and a little bit of a daze still flickering behind his eyes. 

Matteo doesn’t answer quick enough. He was too wrapped up in the way that David’s eyes were dark and hooded and looking at him like he was good enough to eat, and Matteo thought he wouldn’t mind a bite taken out, if only David kept looking at him like that, like he was a fire in the form of a person and ready to melt Matteo with only a look. Matteo thinks that he already was, melted completely and totally, into a puddle, into putty, for David and David only. 

David takes his silence and the way he was biting his bottom lip as meaning it was fine to keep going. He leans back in and runs his teeth over the line of Matteo’s jaw, biting at a fleshy part of his neck as he grips onto his hips hard and hot. 

“Stop!” Matteo repeats with a little bit of a squeak. This time he pulls David back by the hair up near the crown of his head with a little bit of a giggle when David looks like he’s stuck between groaning in annoyance at the interruption, and- well, something else. 

“Why?” David asks, running his hands under the hem of Matteo’s shirt, just to feel him shutter at the heat of it, already leaning in close again to breathe against the side of cheek. 

“I bruise really easily,” Matteo says with a straight face, though it quickly falls like ice near a flame when he sees a slow and lazy smirk spread against David’s face, making his eyes crinkle in the corners just a little bit, making his fingers squeeze around the waistline of Matteo’s jeans just a little bit tighter. 

“So?” He asks smooth, like honey, like molasses, like warm syrup with cinnamon and nutmeg on top.

“People will see,” Matteo responds a little breathy, pressing in closer, quickly losing what he was trying to say. 

David grins at him and presses in tight to lick a hot line across the junction of Matteo’s neck and shoulder before biting at the knobby part of his shoulder hard and quick through his shirt, pressing his thumbs into Matteo’s bottom rib. Matteo sucks in a breathe and throws his head back without even realizing, giving David the opportunity to nibble at his adam’s apple. 

David tugs on Matteo’s hair to pull him in and bite at the shell of his ear to say wet and burning in his ear, “_So_?”


	9. You know you can be a right prat you know that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find the original post [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/188895526288/72-please-you-know-you-can-be-a-right-prat-you) :)

Matteo stared up at the ceiling, listening to the ticking of David’s old watch that he found at a thrift shop one day downtown with only one hand still working and the other stuck in place while the hours circled around, and around, and around. He couldn’t sleep. He could never sleep. Never, ever, ever, and god, he was tired of it. That, and just down right _tired_. He couldn’t sleep, and he was _bored_. God, he was bored. He was so bored, listening to the ticking, and ticking, and the ticking because one of the hands was broken, so the watch was trying to make up for it in other ways. 

He sighed and curled up behind David, sticking his nose that was just a little bit chilled into the bottom of his hairline and wrapping his arm around his stomach, breathing him in and hoping it would help. David always helped. Well, _usually_. He usually helped, when it came to this, this whole sleeping thing. Or the lack thereof, he supposed. 

God, he just wanted to sleep. 

There was a hole in David’s shirt near his hip, and Matteo tucked his face onto the back of David’s shoulder and picked at the fray threads coming out from it, picking at it and making the hole wider, not on purpose, not really. He was just bored, and it was late. Or early. It didn’t matter. Everyone was asleep, except for him, and he just wanted something to do. So he picked at the hole, and picked, and picked, and picked. 

“Wha’re doin?” David mumbled out quiet and rough and sleepy. He tucked himself further into Matteo’s chest, and Matteo smiled, just a little, at that because that felt nice, the way that David curled into him without even really thinking about it. It felt a little bit like a consolation prize right now. 

“Nothin,” he responds and kisses the back of David’s neck. “Go back to sleep.” _For both of us_, he thinks a bit bitterly before his sleepy brain could stop himself, feeling his fingers still pulling at a thread that was between his thumb and pointer and thinking about how he was still a little bit bored and still a lot a bit tired. 

“Okay?” David asks, gripping at Matteo’s wrist slow and light, and Matteo had to strain ever cell in his being to be able to feel the sweet and warm tingling that David’s fingers always smoothed into his skin. 

He closed his eyes and pressed his nose further into the back of David’s neck, and David gripped his wrist harder at the chill of it, making Matteo want to only breathe him in further because there was something hot sinking into his skin with the pressure of his grip, almost in time with the ticking. 

“Go back to sleep,” Matteo repeats and keeps picking at the hole in David’s shirt as David’s grip loosens on his wrist as he listens to the ticking of a watch with a broken hand. God, he was tired, he thought. 

“Matteo!” 

“Wha?” Matteo muttered and shoved his face further into the pillow, and he didn’t know when he fell asleep. But fuck, he wasn’t going to try to wake up now, now that he couldn’t hear that fucking watch tick, tick, tick anymore and the back of his eyelids didn’t burn when they were closed tight, keeping him wrapped in a light darkness that was a little warm and a little nice. 

“Matteo, wake up!” David said and hit him on the back with a pillow that he ripped out of Matteo’s arms, and wow, that was rude, Matteo thought. And uncalled for, he thought after. David was supposed to be on his side.

“What?” Matteo asks as he blinks his eyes open to look up at the ceiling and rub at his eyes with the back of his hands. He looks over at where David was sitting up, fuming, with steam coming out of his ears and glaring down at Matteo, gripping at Matteo’s pillow in his hands. “What?” Matteo asks again. 

“Look at this!” David practically screeches and pulls at the side of his shirt where there was a giant hole splitting up the center of the side from the waist all the way up to the arm. “Look what you did!”

And Matteo can’t help it. He really can’t. He ends up bursting into a fit of giggles where tears are rolling down his eyes, and he has to clench at his stomach because oh my god, he was still so _tired_. But this was so _funny_! And he starts laughing even harder when David huffs at him and groans out loud, hitting Matteo with the pillow again, who just catches it and stifles his snickers into the fluff of it. 

“You know you can be a right prat, You know that?”


	10. Secret passage ways? Really? Are we in a gothic novel?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Matteo, come on. Let’s go!” David calls out over his shoulder from the other side of the hallway. Matteo could just make out his silhouette in the distance, if he strained just a little bit with a squint, but it was too dark at the end to see which way that David turns and slips out of the edges of Matteo’s vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find the original one [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/188934176463/17-37-for-davenzi) :)))

“Matteo, come on. Let’s go!” David calls out over his shoulder from the other side of the hallway. Matteo could just make out his silhouette in the distance, if he strained just a little bit with a squint, but it was too dark at the end to see which way that David turns and slips out of the edges of Matteo’s vision. 

“Wait up!” Matteo calls back and picks up his pace to try and catch up to David, or at least to see him again, but only seeing his breath fog up in front of him as he huffs into his hands to try and warm them up. “Fuck,” he says to himself when he gets to the end, looking left and right and trying to see if he could figure out which way David went. “Where did-” 

“Keep up, will you?” Matteo hears to his left, and he turns quickly to look that way. But still doesn’t see David. He doesn’t see anything actually. He feels his heart pounding in the pit of his stomach but doesn’t say anything about it, just reaches out to the empty space in front of him as if he could sense which way David went. 

“Fuck off,” he yells back instead. He hears David chuckle in front of him and starts heading in that direction, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and trying to heat up his nose by tucking it into his scarf. He doesn’t know why he agreed to this, he thought, trailing after David in another crumbling building that looked like it was a staph infection waiting to happen. 

“Where did you go?” Matteo asks into the open air when he reaches a dead end. He spins around, looking into an empty room with part of the ceiling falling in, touching the ground and covering everything with a layer of white dust, and out the window that was drafty and cracked from the side with only a tree with long limbs and pointed branches in the frame. “David?” He calls out after a few seconds, trying to hide the panic that was seeping into his spine with each second he was left alone in a building that was creaking a little bit too eerily to be anything but unsettling. “David- David, where did you-”

“I’m right here.” 

Matteo jumps, gripping at his scarf and spins around to see David peaking out of the wall behind him. “Jesus fuck,” Matteo squeaks out, trying to calm down the thumping he was hearing in his ears, and David snickers loudly into the back of his hand, pushing the wall, or well, the _door_ open further and inviting Matteo in with him. 

“Secret passage ways? Really? Are we in a gothic novel?” Matteo asks with an eye roll and kicks out at David’s ankle just to be annoying, just to cover up the anxious way this building was making him feel, even with David’s smile that was filled with interest and giddiness covered him a little bit like a blanket. 

David tilts his head and laughs again, quiet and calm with his mouth only stretching a little bit to get the noise out. “Come on, monkey. I wanna show you something,” David says, grinning, before he leans back and turns, going into the door in the wall. 

Matteo follows after slowly, his feet sliding across the ground, kicking at some dry wall. He makes his way through the door and see David above him, climbing up a ladder. “What?” Matteo says, staring at the bottom of David’s feet. 

“Come on,” David repeats for the hundredth time tonight. 

“God, I hate you,” Matteo mutters under his breath, reaching out for a metal wrung to make his way up, feeling the bite of the cold on the palms of his hands. 

“What was that?” David calls down, laughing. 

Matteo rolls his eyes and starts his treacherous climb up. 

“Are we there yet?” Matteo asks as he pulls himself into the attic, looking around at the empty room with the exposed beams high in the ceiling and the hole in the floor off to his right. 

“Yeah, yeah, come look,” David says over at a window in the corner. 

“How did you find this place anyways?” Matteo asks. David shrugs and winks, and Matteo thinks about how much he still doesn’t know about him, even after all this time, about how much he still was excited to find out about. 

“Look,” David says and turns towards to peer out the window. 

Matteo slides up besides him and looks out at the city through the frosted glass at the twinkling lights of the buildings, and the cars, and the people that seemed so far away all of a sudden, in a room that’s so quiet and just a touch too cold to be comfortable, covered in the rosy light of the evening sun. “Wow,” Matteo breathes out quietly. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Yeah, it is,” David responds slow and just as quiet, looking right at Matteo. 

“Shut up. You’re so cliche,” Matteo says, pushing his palm into David’s nose and shoving at his face, with David laughing and grabbing at Matteo’s wrist to reel him in close to his side to press a kiss into the side of his face.


	11. Are you okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah,” Matteo answers, lips tight. “I was trying to go to bed,” he tacks on, feeling like he should justify at least a little bit for why he was like this, completely clothed, and upside down, and pitiful. 
> 
> “Well, I can help with that,” David says and leans in closer while still keeping his distance. “Can I touch you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find the original one [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/188935009228/do-you-mind-doing-14-for-davenzi) :)

“Are you okay?” David asks, peering down at Matteo with his hands in his pockets and his worried face on.

“I’m fine,” Matteo says with a lot of audacity for a guy currently half-hanging upside-down off his bed just to feel the rush of blood into the top of his skull. His sunglasses were on, even though it was halfway through the night, and there was a joint hanging limply out of the corner his mouth, unlit. 

David tilts his head to the side and looks up to where Matteo’s shoes were on his pillow, caked in dirt still, and then trailed down to where Matteo was wearing his scarf and his winter coat. “You sure?” He asks when he gets to Matteo’s face. 

Matteo lifts a hand that was by his hip to wave vaguely in front of him. At least he thinks he did. His hands were too heavy a minute ago to move, feeling like dead weight at the ends off his arms, and falling dumbly by his hips when he was trying to get his lighter out of his pocket earlier. Progress, he thinks with a little satisfaction. 

“Weren’t you out with the boys tonight?” David asks, unwrapping his scarf from his neck and slipping his beanie off, making his hair stick up.

Matteo shrugs, at least he _thinks_ he did, and watches as David drops his coat onto the chair that was pushed near the door and slip his shoes off to tuck under it, slow and languid. 

David goes to sit on the floor right next to Matteo’s head, and Matteo turns just a little bit to look at him a little bit better now that he was up close. His nose was a little bit pink, just like the tips of his ears, and Matteo couldn’t quite feel the ends of his toes right now and hasn’t for a while at this point, but thought that David looks breathtaking all the same. 

“Can I help?” David asks quietly. 

“I can’t move,” Matteo mutters, trying to keep the joint between his lips because he knew he wouldn’t be able to get the energy to pick it up off the floor later. 

David moves his mouth to the side and then the other, like he was thinking. “That appears to be a problem then,” he says, though Matteo feels like he wants to say something else. 

“Yeah,” Matteo answers, lips tight. “I was trying to go to bed,” he tacks on, feeling like he should justify at least a little bit for why he was like this, completely clothed, and upside down, and pitiful. 

“Well, I can help with that,” David says and leans in closer while still keeping his distance. “Can I touch you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Sunglasses on?” 

“Yeah,” Matteo breathes out, relieved at the way that David was seeming to get it right now. 

“Alright,” David says and goes to stand up, plucking the joint out of Matteo’s mouth and sets in on the side table. He kneels beside Matteo on the bed to tug at his hips and pull him further on the bed before going to stand again and pull Matteo around by his ankles so he was facing the right way. He starts telling Matteo a story about his dinner would Laura, and Matteo hums along, trying to participate at least somewhat but losing the timeline of the story almost instantly, too busy focusing on the way that David’s hands felt like they were burning Matteo with a branding iron right now. And Matteo would feel bad about this whole thing, would feel a little bit like a piece of shit with the way that David had to tug off his shoes and talk him into just lifting his shoulder just a little bit, for just a second, in order to get his jacket off, if only he had the energy to feel any type of way at all, besides tired. 

David gets Matteo down to his shirt and boxers, with his head on the clean pillow at the head of the bed, with the dirtied one by Matteo’s shoes thrown onto the floor so David could wash the case in the morning. 

“Do you want a blanket?” David asks when he seems satisfied with his work. 

“No,” Matteo says after a pause, thinking about the way that even his skin was feeling a little bit too itchy for him to want to keep on, and tries to shake his head but doesn’t think it came across. 

“Do you want a cuddle?”

Matteo closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at the way David seems worried enough to vibrate out of his skin, though trying to fake it all at once. “No, sorry.” 

“That’s alright, monkey,” David says and lays down beside him, careful not to touch. 

Matteo gathers up enough strength a few hours later to take the glasses off and tuck his nose into David’s shoulder after turning on his side. That’s enough for now, he thinks. He’ll try some more in the morning.


End file.
